


[You Fight Me]

by Niarra



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Underfell AU - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Big Bad Skeleton gets mad because someone touched his property, Blood and Injury, Cute cuddle session, Other, Protective bonefriend, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25207963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niarra/pseuds/Niarra
Summary: Stacey gets into some trouble with a gang of armored dogs and cannot seem to shake them loose. How will she get out of this one? Foolish dogs, carelessly messing with someone’s property. A certain tall skeleton won’t be too thrilled about that.
Relationships: OC(Stacey) X UnderFell Papyrus(Edge)
Kudos: 2





	[You Fight Me]

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old piece of writing that no longer is canon, but I didn’t want to delete it, so…here! Would really love some criticism or writing advice! :)

After Undyne learned of Stacey’s halved soul and convinced Asgore to reduce her execution—accompanied by Toriel’s stern convincing—Stacey was accepted into the royal guard as commanding Lieutenant (her past status gifting her a higher rank). The next time Stacey and Edge went on patrol there was a new air blowing through the tall pines. No one knew what it was. All they knew was that Lieutenant Gaster and Lieutenant Thompson were a power couple not to be reckoned with. Not everyone agreed with the King’s repeal, however, and many had different forms of showing this irritation. Stacey, dressed down in her black and scarlet uniform, was walking down her usual patrol route. This was the first time Stacey made her rounds without Papyrus attached to her side, her low hums filling the quiet instead of their opinionated conversations. But she knew she wasn’t alone. She could clearly hear someone—or maybe a gang of three?—stalking her amongst the shadows. Normally, she would turn and face whoever dared to stalk her head on, but that was in the past. She had a new reputation to uphold and people to protect; she couldn’t go chasing after trouble anymore. But, as her long reputation precedes her, trouble followed Stacey like the crisp breeze of night, or—in this case—the three bodies of clanking armor walking beside her. 

“Gentleman,” Stacey said, her arms fixed behind her as she walked. She slowly caught sight of the three, finding them to be largely built, armored dogs (of whom she had passed in rank by the king’s ruling). The shortest out of the three stepped forward, the other two blocking Stacey in from behind. This wasn’t good.

“You hears that fellas? She called us gentleman,” the small dog said with a scratchy throat. “Isn’t that sweets of Lieutenant Thompson?” The two goons chuckled like brain dead cartoon characters. The tiny mutt wore a battered black vest with weird pins and horribly swoon plaid patches; his right eye was cloudy and his face looked like It went through a meat grinder.

Stacey held her grin, “Oh, pardon me, it seems I’m dealing with mongrels rather than gentleman. It’s easy to mistake them in the shadows, but much easier once you can see their horrendous features.” 

The small dog growled, the other two following along. “You have ones’ second to take that back before I commands’ my boys’ here to slaughter you!”

“Oh really?” Stacey pursed her lips in a mocking tone. “What could a worthless excuse for a royal guard as of you do to a commanding Lieutenant such as I?” She then bent down and flicked it’s rigid nose—the dog squeaking in response—before circling past it. ”Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to a runts pitiful threats.”

The small dog whirled around and blocked her again, “Who’s said you could leave?” He sneered, pressing a claw to her chest, “I don’t remembers givin’ you an order, love.” 

Bad move. If you are not her best friend or lover you are forbidden from laying a single finger on Stacey. No stranger who has touched her got away without a payment for their discourtesy. Stacey’s body burst with flickering flames and her black ends curled up into burning colors.  
The dog shrunk back in his doll sized boots, realizing his oh so awful mistake. She snatched the dog by its tuff of chestfur and rammed him into the snow. “last time I checked,” Stacey drew back, “I’m the one in charge,” and smashed his nose in. The dog yelped as he fought for freedom, his cries for help startling his comrades. Stacey took this moment to roundhouse sweep the dazed brick walls, sending them backwards as she ran for it.

Let the chase begin.

The crunching snow broke beneath Stacey’s combat boots as she pushed through long strides. Of course she could try to take all three on her own but Stacey wasn’t stupid. Reckless, yes, but not stupid. Opponents of that size could easily restrain her and deliver some painful blows. 

The panting boulders barreled closer. “After her!” The small dog roared, perched up on one of the goons shoulders.

Her lungs were burning and heavy when she eventually entered Snowdin Town. “Nearly home,” she huffed, until the one thing she feared happened. The two slobbery tanks snatched her and seized her forearms, grunting loudly as Stacey thrashed around. Alcohol and cigarettes hung in the air and Stacey knew she was royally fucked.

“Hello tiny,” Stacey cooed, winking.

“Listens here mutt,” the leader grabbed Stacey’s chin, making her look at him, “you brokes my nose here’s, sweetie, and the price fors that is death!” His nails drove into her face, carving a long slit down her right eye. Stacey hissed and bucked widely, her skin stinging madly as blood dripped from her eye lid. This was hardly comical, but Stacey couldn’t help but snicker. 

“...Do you—do you have separate consequences for every body part or did you just get tired of constantly having your nose broken? Because FUCK you ugly.” 

The dog’s black nose crinkled. “You don’t seems to realize the situation you’res in, let me shows you!” He balled his fists and began propelling relentless punches to her face and gut. Stacey hung there like a skinned pig at a butcher shop, taking blow after blow until she was drenched in blood. Restrained, half blind, and spitting up blood. How did Stacey plan on getting out this time? No one would help her; no one cared if she woke up dead or alive tomorrow. Her status meant nothing.

“DAMAGE TO ANY OWNED PROPERTY IS AGAINST THE LAW,” a voice thundered. Stacey’s ears shot high. That voice, she knew that voice. Forcing her beaten face to look up, Stacey finds the one and only Edge, right socket glowing, arms folded with a menacing scowl.

“...P-Papyrus!” Stacey managed to croak out before slipping unconscious. The gang froze at his presence, tails tucking between their trembling legs. 

“P-Papyrus! H-heya, we...we weres jus’ playins ar-around!” The small dog sputtered, fumbling backwards. His pals dropped Stacey and fled the premises, leaving the once tough dog to Papyrus. 

Papyrus persisted with shaking fist, “PLAYING AROUND, HUH? LETS PLAY THEN, SHALL WE?” Papyrus wrung the dog around his throat, sharp, glowing bones piercing through the ground around them. “IF YOU EVER,” Papyrus tightened his grip, the dog yelping as he wriggled, “EVER TOUCH MY PROPERTY AGAIN I WILL MAKE YOU THE FRONT ROW GUEST TO WITNESS ME TORTURE YOUR FAMILY AS THEY DIE SLOW, PAINFUL, HELPLESS DEATHS. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” 

Gagging on its saliva, the dog managed an exasperated “yes, Lieutenant Gaster” and slumped in the dirt.

“NOW SCRAM!” Papyrus flicked his finger making the dog flinch. He nodded hastily before he dashed off with his goons.

...

Everything was warm. A strong force surged through her veins; powerful, yet oddly soothing. Stacey felt someone In the depths of the flowing energy, someone familiar. She could see a slender silhouette looming over her, glowing with angelic light in the void of her unconsciousness. Stacey shuddered, a hard pinch jabbing Into her ribs; as if the muscle and skin were binding back together. It was a sensation no one could label but only Imagine what it possibly felt like. Her head throbbed brutally as her eyes crept open, seeing nothing but blurry specks she assumed were objects. Stacey couldn’t move. She was buried under layers of thick blankets and pillows, obscuring her sight even further, but could feel around. Instinctively, Stacey checked her eye first, feeling a wool bandage held over it with string; then checked her other nasty wounds, feeling them patched up in weirdly textured fabric. Her left eye slowly came into focus, allowing Stacey a glimpse of where she might be. Alphabetically ordered books? Fancy watches? Death metal posters? Of course, what other dimly lit room decorated in black and red could it be! 

She stirred weakly trying to sit up, her strained muscles trembling as she did, but felt a hand reach over and gently press her back down, “Rest now, love,” a voice hushed in her ear. 

“Papyrus?” Stacey rasped, sinking down into the pile of blankets. Just whispering a simple word tore at her dry throat.  
“Yes, love. It’s me.” Papyrus felt her head before kissing it, the warmth leaving him concerned. “You’re safe now. Relax and try to get some sleep, okay?”

“But I—“

“Stacey,” His voice dipped down like a mother scolding her disobedient children.

And with a huff Stacey laid back against his ribcage, his arms wrapped tightly around her. No other place felt more peaceful or safe. She could stay here forever if it meant receiving any form of affection from her mi amore.


End file.
